Knee Buddy
by Passionate Cec
Summary: Sam gets injured offworld and wakes up in the infirmary. But her team isn't very far, especially Colonel O'Neill who thinks there is something they should share. Listed as Sam/Jack but the whole team is there.


Hi there.

I have absolutely no idea where this came from. There wasn't supposed to be a knee involved in the beginning but once again, the muse was stubborn and only did what it wanted. I was very happy about that. I actually really like this piece and am very happy about managing some SG-1 humour. I don't know how good and accurate it is but it's not what I usually write and I was out of my safe zone. Always interesting. :)

I hope you'll agree with me on this one.

There are a couple more one shots coming for this because, as usual, I couldn't help myself from writing more. But I think the three I have will be all.

Also as usual, Stargate SG-1 and its characters don't belong to me. The sole purpose of this story is entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.

I'd love to know what you thought about this story. Good or bad, let me know. :)

Enjoy. :)

**Knee Buddy**

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sam tried to identify the annoying beeping sound and tried to lift a hand to bat in the general direction whence it was coming from to make it stop. But it seemed her limbs had no intention of cooperating with the orders her brain were giving them. Her arm remained limp on top of the sheets. So she tried to press her head further into the pillow, hoping it would muffle the sound but it hurt to move her head, even against the marginally soft surface of what was certainly an infirmary bed. _Well damn! _

Beep. Beep. Beep.

_Didn't they know the darn heart monitor made her head hurt?_ She sulked to herself. The headache was pretty specific of a concussion. She had had enough to recognize them and she didn't dare open her eyes lest they had left the lights on. That would be sure to kill the last bits of brain she had available at the moment.

Once the headache seemed to dissipate a tad bit, she wondered how on Earth she had, once again, landed in the infirmary. And especially what she had done to earn a heart monitor. She frowned to herself, knowing better than to actually frown. That would kick the pain in the butt, wake it up and make sure it pounded against the inside of her skull with the heaviest and sharpest hammer it owned. The concussion had to be nasty if she was entertaining such thoughts, she decided. Maybe that was why they had hooked her up to the heart monitor even though except for the pain in her head she felt fine. That was when she realized she hadn't yet done her usual mental inventory of her body parts.

Head. She decided she was not going to there. Shoulders were fine. So were the arms. She stopped and focused harder. Right wrist hurt a bit. Sprained. There was a bandage around it. Right palm stung and itched a bit. She had probably scraped the skin when she fell or something of the kind. Chest was fine. No bruised or broken ribs. There was a relief. Abdomen and sides seemed intact. As did the neck and back. No pain but she could feel them normally. No spine injury. Good. That was always the most frightening possibility. Hips were okay. Left leg as well. Right leg.

_Ah!_ There was the kicker. Her knee hurt. A lot. Probably not broken. But her ligaments had probably had it. Experience said ligaments could hurt a hell of a lot. Colonel O'Neill's not quite silent complaints said knee ligaments were even worse. Especially those sneaky cruciate ligaments. The painful burning and stabbing told her that was most likely it. Great.

'You done investigating yourself, Carter?' A voice coming from the side of the bed asked.

It was a voice she recognized very well. Colonel O'Neill. He hadn't been accusing because they both knew all military personnel did that when waking up in the infirmary or after having been unconscious for an undetermined length of time. First priority : check that the body is still in working order. And if not… improvise. Sam turned her head to face him and just barely cracked an eye open. Dimmed lights. No excruciating pain. No heavier and sharper hammer digging its way through her skull. Good. Slowly and warily, she opened her second eye.

'Sir.' She greeted.

Or so she had intended. Instead came out a croak that resembled more that of a toad than any kind of human voice. And it hurt her extra dry throat. She coughed, sending shards of pain shooting through her brain and knee. Those sadists were holding out on the good stuff. Where was Janet when one needed her?

A straw – it was probably linked to a glass or cup of water somewhere further down – appeared in front of her face. She didn't put up a fuss and simply grabbed the straw with her lips and drank, sighing through her nose, closing her eyes in pleasure as the cold liquid soothed her sand-dry throat. Too soon the cup was empty and she opened her eyes again, pouting. She saw the Colonel chuckle. She realized she had to look a bit ridiculous but the concussion and drugs were making her loopy so she had an excuse. She followed his hands as he moved them back to the nightstand to pour her another glass of water. She smiled and grabbed the remote so she could lift the bed into a sitting position. The dreaded heavy and sharp hammer would probably make an appearance if she tried to sit on her own and she decided not to chance it.

He handed her the glass and she started lifting her right hand, changing course of action when the movement pulled at something inside her wrist. Instead she grabbed the glass with her left hand and Colonel O'Neill must have noticed that it was a bit shaky because his hand stayed next to hers an extra second to make sure she wouldn't drop everything on her lovely infirmary gown. A strange thought crossed her mind – did he know that she could do sarcasm very well too? Especially when injured and/or stranded in an infirmary bed.

'So, Carter. I know you like me and think I'm cool and all that, but did you really need to follow my lead in the knee department?' He teased although she knew him well enough to know that he was partly serious, mostly because he had been worried about her. Or at least, she hoped so.

'No, sir.' She answered, extending a shaky arm to set the glass back on the nightstand. 'Although I don't quite remember what happened. Would you mind enlightening me, sir?'

'Well, let's say you took a bit of a dive. Unsteady ground. You'd taken point and the ground went out under you. You mostly slipped down a slope but when we got to you your leg was at an angle it should never be at. From what Frasier said there's not one ligament in there that came out unscathed.'

'Explains a few things.' He winced and shot her a sympathetic smile.

'Hurts?' She nodded. 'How's the head?'

'Right now it's not too bad. How did I hit my head?'

'Tree.' She raised a questioning eyebrow, immediately regretting the gesture.

'A tree?'

'Apparently it was in your way.'

'Lovely. And my wrist?'

'Unknown. But we suspect you tried to slow your descend because there was quite a bit of dirt in there. Thankfully you just scratched the surface.' She smiled and nodded, turning to look at the door when Janet walked in.

'Sam, you're awake!' She noted with a bright grin. 'How are you feeling? Don't say you're fine because if you say that I'll put you off the meds and we'll see what you say.' She warned before Sam could even think about her answer. She winced.

'The wrist is fine. Head hurts a bit. Depends on what I do. Which makes me think – could you turn off the sound on the heart monitor or something? It's annoying.'

Janet smiled and shooed the Colonel out of room. Sam knew he would get Daniel and Teal'c and drop by the General's office to tell him she was awake. It was a well rounded routine. When one of SG-1 was hurt, the other three kept permanent watch, annoying Janet and the nurses to no end. When they woke up they would chat a bit with whomever was there at the moment and then that person would go get the other two and tell the General, who worried about as much as they did, that they were awake while the one who was hurt or sick was in Janet's capable hands.

The doctor walked over to the machine, pressing a button to turn it off completely before removing the receptors from Sam's chest.

'You don't need it anymore. I just wanted you on it while you were unconscious.'

'How long was I unconscious?'

'Thirty-nine hours. But you had a knee surgery and I kept you sedated for a while so you would be able to sleep through the pain.' Sam nodded.

Janet then worked on checking Sam out and the Major was glad Colonel O'Neill wasn't in the room because the yelp she let out when Janet's penlight tested her pupil's reaction was less than dignified. So was the one she let out when the doctor's fingers just barely brushed her bandaged knee.

'That bad?' Janet asked, concerned and Sam nodded. 'Okay, let me get you something for the pain.' She walked to her office and came back just a few minutes later with a couple of unidentified pills. She poured some more water in the glass on the nightstand before handing it all to Sam. 'There you go. I'll check out your wrist while we wait for the pills to kick in.' She informed while scribbling on Sam's chart.

When the three boys walked into the room, two new bandages and a bit of drowsiness later, Sam smiled. Janet was out of time and she knew that very well. Either she had to be done or finish the job with them there. Unless Sam voiced an express desire to be left alone with Janet, that was what would happen.

'Hey, Sam.' Daniel exclaimed with a grin. 'How are you doing?'

'Major Carter. It is good to see you awake.' Teal'c interrupted before she had a chance to say anything.

'Thanks. When can I go back to work Janet?' She asked as the three men took their spots around her bed. Janet stopped, looked at her with raised eyebrows.

'In six weeks. At least.'

'Six weeks? But Janet-'

'Ah! Sam, who's the doctor here? You've pulled all the ligaments in your knee and completely torn your anterior cruciate ligament.'

'Ouch.' The Colonel commented. Janet looked up at him.

'Exactly. Listen to someone who knows what it feels like.'

'Actually doc, I have no idea what that is. It just sounds really painful.' Sam and Daniel chuckled, Teal'c raised an eyebrow, Janet stared at him, nonplussed, Colonel O'Neill grinned innocently and shrugged.

'Well it is extremely painful.' She continued, her eyes setting on Sam's again. 'Believe me, you won't be able to put that foot on the ground without crying like a baby. And you'll be in for some physical therapy before I can clear you to go out in the field again.'

Sam scrunched up her nose. The Colonel shot her a sympathetic look. They had both been through it several times and understood what exactly it meant. And how much of a pain it was.

'I can work in my lab though, right?' Janet nodded.

'In a couple of weeks.'

'A couple of weeks? Janet I'm fine.'

'What did I say about you saying you were fine?'

'Right. But I am. I'm seated most of the time when I'm in my lab.'

'That's not the problem. I don't want you to move your leg at all for a while.' Sam groaned, knowing it was already a lost battle. No amount of arguing would make Janet change her mind. 'I'll get you a splint and am keeping you around for another few days and then you can go home.' And with that, she left.

'So Carter, what did you do to her?' Sam looked at him, frowning, noticing with satisfaction that the headache was perfectly manageable. Bless the meds.

'Sir?'

'Why are you in the dog house with the doc?'

'No idea, sir.' He nodded and grabbed a nearby chair, dropping heavily onto it before leaning forward.

'So, you wanna trade advices and anecdotes?'

'Sir?' Okay, maybe the meds were kicking in too well. Or maybe that was the concussion. Or maybe he was just being confusing.

'About the knees.'

'You want to trade anecdotes about our knees? Sir.' She added belatedly. But she knew he would forgive her. Worst case scenario she could blame it on the concussion. And on the meds.

'Well yeah. Sure mine are mostly rusty whereas yours is definitely screwed up but knee buddies have to stick together.' Daniel burst out laughing and Teal'c's eyebrow seemed to be higher than it had ever been.

'Knee buddies, Jack?'

'Well yeah. My knees are old and screwed up. So is hers. Gotta stick together. Help each other out.'

'With all due respect, sir, my knees aren't old.'

'But this one is screwed up.' He argued, waving in the general direction of her right leg where her newly and heavily bandaged knee was resting on a small pile of pillows.

'Guess it is.' He grinned victoriously. 'But for now I only have one thing to say.' She made a dramatic pause and looked at the three men successively. 'Don't do it guys. It hurts a lot.' She knew they would have shot her sympathetic looks but she was smiling so they chuckled and shook their heads.

'I do not plan on injuring my knees, Major Carter.' She chuckled and shook her head.

'I know Teal'c. It's just – forget it. It's not important.' He either agreed with her, although that seemed quite unlikely or he thought she was too hurt or drugged to understand much anyway. Either way, he didn't argue.

'So Sam. What are you going to do for six weeks?'

'Well, I'm stranded here for a few days. If one of you guys could sneak my laptop in I would be very grateful.'

'I do not believe Doctor Frasier would appreciate that as much as you would.'

'He's right, Carter. You already seem to be in trouble with the doc, you wouldn't want her to come after you with even more needles, would you?'

'No sir. Although if there are pain meds I wouldn't mind.' Colonel O'Neill and Daniel shared a look across the bed and she went over what she had just said, realizing with a start that she had voiced her thoughts. Oh yeah, the meds were definitely working too well.

'Yeah, not right now.'

'No, sir. Not right now.'

'So come on, forced vacation, what are you gonna do?'

'Not so much forced vacation as forced medical leave sir. Apparently I won't be able to leave my house until I start physical therapy. At which point I would rather go back on Netu.' The Colonel nodded and Daniel frowned.

'It can't be that bad.'

'Oh it is, Daniel.' She countered.

'These Air Force therapists are nasty and wicked. You really don't want to have anything to do with them.' Colonel O'Neill continued.

'So what, two weeks of doing nothing and then four weeks of being tortured?' Daniel summed up, voluntarily exaggerating, obviously expecting her to correct him.

'Pretty much. Which is why I was hoping for my laptop. And which is why I really want to come back to work as soon as I can. It will give me an excuse to see the therapist as little as possible and do something the rest of the time.' Colonel O'Neill chuckled, nodding.

'Can't say I disagree for once.'

'I believe if Major Carter is really about to be tortured, we must organize a rescue mission.' Sam chuckled but turned to look at him, just as the other two members of SG-1 did.

'Care to explain, T?' Colonel O'Neill asked before she could.

'I believe we must endeavour to make the time during which Major Carter will be in physical therapy as enjoyable as possible despite the unpleasant circumstances.'

'That sounds great.' Sam stated with a smile. 'Please continue.'

'I believe we should meet as often as our lightened schedule will allow to enjoy movies such as _Star Wars_ as well as non-burnt steaks. For this I believe we will have to go to the restaurant O'Malley's as O'Neill seems incapable of preparing steaks.'

'Hey! That's- that's not true. My steaks are… well done.'

'If you say so, O'Neill.' Sam burst out laughing at the same time as Daniel did and they both ignored the glares the Colonel sent their way.

'That sounds great, Teal'c.'

'I am pleased that you are so fond of this idea.'

'I can grill steaks.' The Colonel muttered.

'You cannot, O'Neill.' Daniel snorted and Sam bit her lip, trying hard not to laugh. Obviously it wasn't convincing enough because he glared at her.

'Shouldn't you be feeling sleepy with all those meds, Carter?'

'Actually, sir, I am feeling sleepy.'

'Don't let us keep you up.'

'No sir.' She mumbled.

She realized then she really was feeling sleepy. Thirty-nine hours was more than she usually slept in one week but she was feeling tired nonetheless. She leaned back further against the pillow as Daniel lowered the head of the bed. She smiled at him before tugging the blanket a bit higher, trying to avoid touching her bandaged knee at any cost.

'Don't wake me up for the steaks.' She mumbled, not even realizing it.

'Funny, Carter, funny. Just sleep.'

She didn't oppose any kind of argument.


End file.
